


Calyptra

by Spindra (prinxess)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Vampire, College, College AU, M/M, Vampire AU, Vampires, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 16:10:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinxess/pseuds/Spindra
Summary: Lance is just trying to get through an annoying evening class this semester. He finds himself distracted by the weird kid who sits near him every class and never takes notes. There's definitely something off about him, but Lance can't quite figure it out. He at least seems nice enough to trust though, right? What's wrong with going somewhere alone at night with a guy you just met?Just like a moth drawn to a flame. But who is the moth, and who is the flame?





	Calyptra

**Author's Note:**

> This was *supposed* to be a one-shot.

_Lance's legs felt weak and he gripped tightly to his attacker in a desperate and ironic attempt to steady himself. Little spatters of blood dripped down between them and splattered with a small noise onto the sidewalk under their feet. It was so obvious now, but hindsight is always 20/20, now, isn't it?_

They'd met in a night class. Lance had thought it an inconvenience that this stupid gen-ed requirement was only available from 7:45pm - 8:50pm; but it was a pre-req and he really needed to get it done before next semester. He sat in the back of the lecture hall, along with everyone else who either wanted to avoid being called on or would rather scroll through Facebook than take notes. That was when he walked in.

This guy kept the hood of his jacket up even indoors. He had no backpack, and neither a notebook nor a pen were anywhere to be found on his person. This wasn't too unusual, though. Some students just didn't give a fuck; and in a class this size, you weren't likely to be noticed and nagged at by the teacher or any of the TAs. Lance noticed the way he scanned the last couple of rows, almost too carefully for someone who looked so apathetic about being in the class. His eyes lingered just a second too long over Lance's form before settling down into a seat in the same row. Lance shrugged it off. Just another awkward eye-contact moment.

The first week of classes had gone by rather uneventfully. Syllabus, chapter 1, half of chapter 2. Nothing unusual. Everyone settled into returning to approximately the same seats each class meeting. A couple weeks in and Lance noticed that the gloomy, unprepared guy from the first day was gradually choosing seats closer and closer to Lance. Now it was getting weird.

Finally, there came the day that only one empty seat separated them from each other. It stayed like that for about a week and a half, neither of them speaking up. During this time, Lance noticed that the guy wasn't as scruffy as he'd first assumed. He'd started letting his hood down during class. The styling of his haircut, although atrocious by Lance's standards, was, admittedly, very neatly cut and combed. This mullet was no accident. It was purposeful. Lance was almost charmed by the balls this guy had to confidently rock a mullet in this day and age. He caught Lance staring entirely too many times.

His eyes were another story. At first glance, maybe just a dark hazel; but there was something weird and almost... unnatural about the hue. Were they purple? Lance had thought that was just a teenage rumor or something that happened anime. People in the real world didn't have naturally purple eyes. This guy didn't look like the kind to wear colorful contacts either. Lance shrugged this off, too. Their relationship remained an unspoken friendship punctuated with occasional, awkward glances.

It was during the midterm review when he spoke up for the first time. Lance was cursing under his breath, struggling with the review equations. He heard a mumble beside him. He paused his scribbling and looked up from the paper.

"What?"

He cleared his through and repeated himself, "I think x = 4."

Lance looked back down at the equation before replying. "How?"

"Hand me the pencil, I'll show you."

Lance extended the pencil to him and scooted over so his neighbor could lean over and begin writing out the proof for the equation. Had he really been doing the equations in his head this whole time? He continued writing in silence for a moment before Lance spoke up.

"I'm Lance, by the way."

"Keith."

"You know, Keith, you're really good at math for someone who's gonna fail this class."

"Huh?" he looked up at Lance, confused for a moment.

"Well," Lance continued, "you never take notes. And I've never once seen you turn in homework. But right now you're doing the midterm review like it's a piece of cake!"

"Oh, um, I'm... not actually a student."

Lance paused. "Really? Why are you here? I wouldn't be forcing myself to come to this shit if I didn't have to. If you really love math that much, you should meet my friend Pidge. She's insane-"

"Actually, no, I'm not that crazy about math. I, uh, I dunno. No, you're gonna think it's stupid."

"Ah, come on, you can tell me." Lance offered a friendly grin. He was getting behind on the review, but this was currently a more interesting topic."

Keith sighed before continuing. "I was kinda hoping I could make some friends, I guess."

Lance blinked before stifling a chuckle he felt rising up in his throat.

"You didn't think a coffee shop or a bar would be a better spot for that?"

Keith glanced away in a bit of embarrassment. 

"I don't get out much," he admitted.

They continued chatting until the end of class. Lance learned that Keith lived alone. He had an older brother, but he had been off doing research abroad for "years" as Keith put it. His gaze grew a little cold when he talked about his brother. He told Lance that he hadn't seen him in a very long time. Whatever that meant. Keith couldn't have been any older than Lance himself. Missing family is one thing, but Lance thought he was being a bit dramatic.

The class finally concluded and lance slammed his notebook shut and began shoving papers haphazardly into his backpack.

"Well, as fun as math class is, if you're looking for friends, I'd much rather get coffee with you."

"Right now?" Keith looked a little taken off guard.

"Unless you're busy."

"No, I... I don't have anything to do."

"Great, I know this awesome place of 38th street where my buddy Hunk works. I think you're gonna love it. It's a cozy place with like, consignment art for sale up on the walls and open mic nights on Tuesdays and stuff. Oh, do you have a car? It's ok if you don't. I know how to get there. I live on campus so I don't have a car, but it's close enough to walk if we take the school shuttle halfway there."

"I have a bike."

"Ha! I don't think I've stood on the peg of someone else's bike since I was in high school and my brother-"

"No, I meant my motorcycle."

"Oh." Lance was only slightly embarrassed at the assumption he'd made.

He heard Keith laugh a little to himself as he stood.

They left class together and walked to the parking lot where Lance saw Keith's motorcycle for the first time. There was only one helmet, and Keith insisted that Lance be the one to wear it.

"I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing."

Lance had to admit he was relieved. He'd never ridden a motorcycle before and he only felt a little guilty for taking the only bit of safety equipment present. After a quick crash course on balancing, Lance relayed some general directions to Keith before he hopped on the bike. 

"Ok, I think I got it. If I get confused or anything, you can remind me when we're stopped at a red light or something."

Lance looked at Keith's back as he sat there expectantly, waiting for Lance to sit down behind him. They really didn't know each other; but, aside from the strange circumstances of his presence in Lance's night class, Keith seemed like a nice enough guy. There was something genuine in his frank way of speaking.

Lance finished strapping the helmet on and straddled the leather seat of the bike, wrapping his arms tight around Keith's waist.

"You sure you're not gonna kill us before we get there?"

Keith was already revving the gas when he replied in an amused tone.

"Shut up and trust me."


End file.
